Fillip flitted from tree to tree, never losing sight of the pub and sticking to the shadowed side of the trunks. He watched not only the ground around him and the trunks, but also the boughs of the trees. It was there he caught his first glimpse of a giant. What caught his eye was a booted foot which swayed ever so slightly and then stilled.
Quiet as a mouse, Fillip reached into his coat and drew his knife. He wasn’t sure what he intended to do with it, but his duty became clear when he moved to a better angle and the giant was backlit by the front lanterns of the pub. The giant was drawing on a massive bow and a savage looking arrow was set to fire. Cautious to avoid stepping on dry twigs, Fillip rushed to the tree and leaped with all his might to catch hold of the dangling foot. There wasn’t a noise from the giant as the two landed on the ground, aside from the thump of their bodies. But Fillip grunted as the air was forced out of his body by the impact of his less than graceful landing with the giant’s boot in his ribs.
In spite of the fact that he was breathless, he found the strength to tackle the figure who was sitting up. He pressed the still bare knife to the giant’s throat and hissed. “Lie still, I’m not in a bargaining mood.” Fillip was emboldened by experience dealing with marauding outlaws in previous years.
“I am no gamester,” the giantess said, for indeed the voice was female and richer than honey. “I’m just trying to save a few lives.” Her accent was assuredly foreign and thick.
“While I find myself confounded you speak my language, I am urged to wonder why such a peculiar person as yourself is lurking outside a public place, preparing to shoot something.” Fillip was surprised to feel her relax under him as if she was resigned to his authority . . . as if.
“Some things,” the giantess corrected. “There are currently two goblins at the backdoor of the said public building and I am inclined to kill them instead of letting them take their vengeance out on the innocent men inside. Now if you don’t mind I would like to get back to my duty. I am not inclined to answer to a youth.”
“This blade says you answer to me.” Fillip tightened his grip on her one arm and pressed the knife a little more firmly to her throat.
Fillip was unaware the giantess had even moved until their positions were reversed and his own knife was pressing against his Adam’s apple. Her booted, left, foot pinned his right hand to the ground and her right knee was inside his jacket, pinning him to the turf but not bearing her weight on him.
Title: The Stones of Caron
Author: R. Ann. Greene
Earia, queen of the elves, has long fought against an enemy she believed she created: a man, Niren, who she raised as her son, over four hundred years ago and he will see every man, elf, and dwarf killed unless they bend a knee to him. The dragons already have, willing or not, and Earia is forced to fight them as well as Niren’s soldiers.
Fillip is a seventeen year old, raised in the woods and seashores of the small country of Niss, and he has managed to find the one thing which can give the elves hope against Niren and his dragons.
Pursued by assassins, Earia is desperate for Fillip’s help and he is aching for adventure, even danger. Fillip’s younger brother is not so inclined, but what is a brother for, if not to help chase monsters and throw down kings?
Earia’s age old companions are quick to accept the youngsters and teach them a thing or two. Fillip soon discovers that he is not the farmer he thought, but a bold adventurer, willing to take mighty risks to see the world and to fight for his new friends.
R. Ann. Greene grew up in Idaho with four siblings. She was home-schooled all twelve grades and was thirteen when she began writing, inspired by such fantasies as C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien could weave. She was a little closer to fifteen when she started working to make writing her career. It took five more years, endless refining edits, and a lot of will-power to reach her first publication of The Stones of Caron.
Now, she lives in the Boise Mountains of Idaho and volunteers as a firefighter in her community. She spends her days writing, blogging, and splitting firewood to keep the house warm in the winter time, but mostly writing.